


Dress You Up

by Splinter



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Eddie Brock, Collars, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Teasing, Top Venom Symbiote (Marvel), dressing up, sentient bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 09:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18735937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splinter/pseuds/Splinter
Summary: Eddie dresses up in his symbiote, starting with a jacket and ending with fetishwear."Eddie assumes it’s a joke, or a come-on, but Venom isn’t kidding. Once his hoodie and overshirt are off, it turns into a series of coats: the leather jacket again, a formal suit. Eddie tries to pose like a model, though his pout keeps turning into a smile. The symbiote wriggles in pleasure, trying out different textures and cuts. It even manages an unlikely black-and-white tweed, like a fangier kind of dogtooth. The apartment’s warming up by now, and they’re both laughing as Eddie gets out of his jeans, letting Venom try complete outfits. Though it tries different styles of pants, it’s shameless about fitting close to his ass."





	Dress You Up

A chilly spring dawn is breaking by the time they head for home. Both Eddie and his symbiote are wired after a long night tracking down – and, in two cases, eating – a trafficking ring. They mostly avoid being visibly out in daylight, but the sky is turning from grey to pink as they swing in through the window. 

**COLD, Eddie** , his other grumbles. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to leave the window open. Venom has a tendency to smash straight through glass, but leaving it wide means that the apartment is freezing. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie sighs, shutting the window behind them and reaching for the thermostat. The symbiote vanishes faster than usual. Slithering under his skin, it curls around Eddie’s internal organs like a cat cuddling up to a warm laptop. “You’re used to the vacuum of space, and now you’re scared of a draft?” As if in apology, Venom leaves the last of itself wrapped around his neck, an alien scarf, while the place warms up. It’s soft and sleek against his skin, smooth as silk and warm as cashmere.

“Thanks, V,” he says, hand up to pet the tentacle. There’s a pleased ripple under his fingers, against the skin of his throat.

Eddie’s always been sensitive there. There are places on his skin that make him shiver – under his ear, the nape of his neck, where the pulse beats. He marks easily, and he likes that too, carrying signs of his lover’s hunger. Eddie’s never been into choking, but he used to love it when Anne put her tie around his neck, claiming him. 

After a big or frustrating day in court, she’d come home and use her tie like a collar to lead him into the bedroom. Then she’d tie him to the bed, tease him into a panting, begging mess and fuck him as if she owned him. It got to the point where he had an almost Pavlovian response to her best suit. She’d have him naked and rub herself against him, thighs in well-cut fabric bracketing his bare, needy skin. The dry cleaning bills had been worth it.

Sometimes being Venom feels like both those things together. Suited up, he’s vulnerable and armoured at the same time, tailored power and the bare body under it.

 **Not bare enough** , the symbiote grumbles. A tentacle plucks at his hoodie, pinching through the cloth at to his shirt and undershirt. **So many layers**.

“Like you said, it’s cold. Anyway, hardly gonna be naked,” Eddie points out.

**Why not?**

Eddie swallows. The thought of it, being outside dressed only in his lover, slick goo sliding over him the way it does at home, the way they are when Venom fucks him. 

**You like it**. Venom’s voice is teasing, needling him. The tone drops lower, sly. **You want it**. 

“You just want to get me arrested for streaking.”

 **Tempting** , the symbiote admits. 

“Well, but what’s gonna happen? It’s not as if we’re inconspicuous, suited – ”

**So what?**

“You can’t eat everyone who spots us. NO, you can’t,” because it’s very obvious what the symbiote is about to reply. “Either we’re seen as Venom, or you vanish and then what?” There’s an amused pause. “No, but seriously.”

 **I could do clothes**. His other sounds slightly offended, perhaps at the idea that it lacks versatility. It surges back out of Eddie, goo flowing up over his shoulders and down around his waist. It makes a very plausible leather jacket, kind of like the one he used to wear on his show, for pieces to camera. He’d sold it on Ebay, for a fraction of what he’d paid for it, one of too many times he’d been desperate for rent. Venom squeezes him a little tighter, the comfort of a hug.

“Not bad,” Eddie admits, looking at his reflection. Even pulled over his hoodie, the Venom-jacket looks cool, all sleek lines. He can feel his other preening at the admiration, almost see it in the jacket’s glossy surface. The zipped pockets remind Eddie of Venom’s eyes, almost closed in satisfaction. 

**Can do more** , it offers. A tentacle pulls at his hoodie, trying to smooth it down. **Better without these. Show you**.

“A fashion show?” He smiles at the idea.

 **If you like**.

Eddie assumes it’s a joke, or a come-on, but Venom isn’t kidding. Once his hoodie and overshirt are off, it turns into a series of coats: the leather jacket again, a formal suit. Eddie tries to pose like a model, though his pout keeps turning into a smile. The symbiote wriggles in pleasure, trying out different textures and cuts. It even manages an unlikely black-and-white tweed, like a fangier kind of dogtooth. The apartment’s warming up by now, and they’re both laughing as Eddie gets out of his jeans, letting Venom try complete outfits. Though it tries different styles of pants, it’s shameless about fitting close to his ass.

So he’s not really surprised when the symbiote pulls his underwear down, makes him take off his shirt and socks so it can flow over naked skin in a fine, silky layer.

It clings to Eddie’s body, to every curve of muscle and sinew. Rippling up his legs, it fits snugly around his hips, then clings closer still, outlining his cock, his balls. In the mirror, it looks like latex, glossy and black. The touch is half tease, half caress.

“Can’t go out like that,” Eddie says, voice hoarser than it was a minute ago. “Unless you were planning on the Folsom Street Fair.” He can feel the symbiote prodding his memories for the reference, flipping through images of fairgoers in fetishwear. Then it surges into a different shape, new but almost familiar, tentacles gripping him like a harness. It hooks one round his neck, like a collar. 

**Wear me** , it murmurs. Images swirl across their bond. His other is showing him a kind of mutual possession: Eddie dressed up in Venom, showing the world that he belongs to it, but also Venom as Eddie’s to wear, a promise of protection and comfort and fierce, hungry devotion. Eddie’s breathing hard at the thought, heart thumping in his throat. Venom circles the collar a little tighter, making sure he feels it. 

His throat was the first place Venom had touched Eddie, Maria’s dying hands around his neck as the alien flooded into him, claimed him.

 **Wear me** , it says again. The harness straps ride up to pinch at his nipples, more bands spreading over his hips. The criss-cross frames his twitching, rapidly filling cock, without actually touching it. 

**Put you on display** , it hisses aloud. **So everyone can see you. See that you’re mine**. In the mirror, Venom’s face flickers over his own, its tongue sliding out. **See how much you want this**. Eddie can feel the rough-slick texture of it, licking at his lips. 

The body he sees is his own, with glossy black straps spreading over bare skin. There’s a band placed around his chest, a collar at his throat. More straps cross his hips, angled to draw attention to his cock. The tentacles aren’t tight but they are firm, so much power wrapped around him.

 **Mine to protect** , it murmurs. **Mine to play with**. Black flares under the tattoos of his chest, a swirl of living ink that plunges down, sliding over his belly to nudge his thighs further apart. Eddie wobbles, about to lose his balance, but it catches him, holds him up. He’s poised in the air, feet just touching the hard wooden floor but not taking his own full weight. Venom is on the edge of taking control, teasing him with the idea of it.

In the mirror, he can see the harness coiling around him, sentient bondage straps stroking his skin and gently readjusting his position. The face he sees is the symbiote’s, all eyes and teeth. He knows it could pull hard, make him do what it wants. Right now, it’s making him wait.

 **Oh yes** , Venom murmurs. The grinning face vanishes from the reflection, revealing Eddie’s own. He’s flushed, his parted lips shining wet. For just a moment, his reflection’s eyes are still Venom’s, gleaming as white as opals. Then they flicker, becoming his own, huge and dark, the pupils blown so wide that he can’t see the blue in them. He looks so fucking needy, chest heaving and cock bobbing, ready to beg for it.

 **Look at you** , Venom agrees. **Wanting so badly**. The harness pulls a little tighter. **All mine.**

Eddie does whine then, can’t help himself, feeling his other’s pleasure. He loves the way Venom enjoys him, savours him. 

**So pretty, Eddie**. He can see Venom’s head behind him now, its chin almost on his shoulder, admiring his – their – reflection. The strap around his chest ripples, settling right under his nipples, where it can both chafe and expose them. Its tongue flicks out again, nudges between his lips. 

His cock is straining hard, but Venom ignores it. Instead, the straps around his thighs pull tighter, spreading his legs. Another tentacle coils around his waist, then writhes down over his buttock, working its way into the crack of his ass. 

Eddie would rock into it, but he’s held too tight, braced. Venom gives a deep, filthy chuckle as the tentacle squirms between his legs, slick and teasing. He moans as it nudges in, circling and pushing deeper. 

Eddie loves it, the greed, the way it possesses him, makes demands of him. It bypasses any shame he might still be capable of feeling, plugged right into his id and ready to turn up the current. He hadn’t thought of himself as an exhibitionist, but he feels so seen, so gorgeously exposed. 

“Venom…”

 **My Eddie. Perfect host** , the symbiote replies, rough and sweet. **Perfect fuck**. Eddie doesn't even know if Klyntar have recreational sex, as such, but dear god it's a fast learner. He's already gasping, the sound high and desperate, when a tentacle finds his prostrate. His body tries to buck into the feeling of it, straining at the living bonds as they tighten around him. He can feel the symbiote’s pleasure, its hunger for his skin.

“V, V, make me come,” he gets out, urgent. He wants to see himself, to watch his come dripping off the slick black bands, like sequins, like dripping embroidery. This is one fabric that won’t stain, that will take whatever he gives it and lick it all up. 

He knows the symbiote can read his thoughts, feels it curl in pleasure at the idea. Venom purrs as it begins to fuck him harder, tendrils curling around to stroke his cock. He comes hard and fast, tries to keep his eyes open so he can see it all, see their shared body patterned in black and creamy white.

It slows down but doesn’t release him, gripping firm and milking him through the aftershocks. It’s so gentle and so, so ruthless, easing him and winding him tighter. That’s very Venom, so it’s a long moment before Eddie realises that his other is showing no signs of stopping, even picking the pace up again.

“Hey,” he gasps, at last, voice shaking. The way it coils and pinches sends another shock of pleasure through him, almost painful.

 **You can come again, Eddie.**

“…can’t, I can’t, it’s too much – I – oh god, baby…”

 **You can, Eddie. And you will**. He’s whimpering, it’s all so much and it’s still pumping into him, his ass stretched and filled, that tentacle pressing hard on his cock. He’s going to be rubbed raw. 

It feels amazing.

 **Would never hurt you, Eddie**. Venom’s voice is a fond, tender growl. It thrusts deeper and harder as it says it, the stretch burning just right. As if to be sure he understands it has very specific ideas of what counts as hurting, the symbiote bites his shoulder, a bright, sweet sting of pain. He moans around the tongue in his mouth, feels it nudge deeper. He’s shaking with overstimulation, would have fallen long ago without his other to hold him up. His head lolls, but Venom’s not having that, nudges him upright.

 **Look, Eddie. Look at us**. What he sees is himself, dressed and possessed, all wrapped up in Venom. There’s a tiny drip of blood from the bite on his shoulder, stripes of goo bound around him and holding him open, fucking into him. There are tears on his cheeks, come splattered across his belly and dripping down his thighs. His other tips him back a little so that he can see the tentacle fucking into his ass, thick and strong. More tendrils wrap and writhe around his cock, teasing at every sensitised inch. 

**So talented. Can take so much**. Eddie thinks he might faint, body shuddering with what Venom’s doing to him, same time as his brain thinks _yes, yes, please, yes_. He’d be begging if he weren’t already swallowing on Venom’s tongue, whimpering that it’s too much and sobbing for more. 

**Watch, Eddie**. The straps on his thighs spread out, caressing over his legs in a glossy wave. Flooding upwards, transforming his body, it brings sparks of pleasure everywhere it touches. It’s so much that Eddie just gives into it, gives way entirely. It holds him up as he collapses, stroking over him, rumbling in satisfaction. In the mirror, he watches himself become Venom, sees himself suit up, except that this time his symbiote is still fucking him as they transform. 

The silky substance flows upwards, finding and teasing every inch of him. He’s so fucked out, even as he turns into their strongest shared form, power fantasy and submission in the same breath.

 **This is what we are, Eddie** , Venom purrs into his ear. **What you need. What you crave**. It pulls his tongue away, giving him a chance to gasp, to look into his own eyes as the symbiote floods up him, over him, through him, lapping up his chest and throat to frame his face. **This is why you like it.**

“ **Yes** ,” Eddie says, in their shared voice, and watches Venom’s face mask his own, consuming him completely as he comes and comes and comes.

By the time it lets him finish, he’s euphoric, so spaced he can hardly feel his body yet aware of every touch, each ache and caress. Venom sets him down very gently, walks him carefully to the bed. 

**What’s dry cleaning, Eddie?** , it asks, sounding genuinely curious, as it tips him down. Eddie mumbles, tries to explain, stumbling over words. The sky is pale blue, the sun well over the horizon. An inky tendril pulls the blind part down, dimming the room but not blacking it out. 

**Come to bed, Eddie. We can sleep**. Eddie is raw and exhausted, still thrumming with what they've just done. He can feel his other healing him, petting him. It tugs up the covers, then wraps itself around him, like a blanket. 

**Keep you warm. Keep you safe** , it murmurs. 

“Thanks, babe.” He reaches up to stroke Venom, where it’s snuggled up to him. His eyes are already closed, almost asleep. The last thing he hears is Venom’s pleased voice. 

**Keep you stylish**.

**Author's Note:**

> Anne's tie and Venom entering Eddie through Maria's hands on his throat are both in the movie. I'm just saying.
> 
> I'm at [lurkinghistoric](http://lurkinghistoric.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr and [on Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/lurkinghistoric).


End file.
